The hospital's training yard wasn't meant for Defense Force elites—it was a modest, reinforced space attached to Yokohama General, designed for physical therapy and minor drills. Yet Akira Kurogiri moved through it like a battlefield, sweat running down his jaw as he drove his body harder than the morning sun. Weighted bands clung to his limbs, clinking faintly as he dropped into another set of push-ups. His muscles trembled, but his expression remained steady, calm.
[Ravan: Muscular fiber stress at 89%. Recovery window shortening. Recommend cessation.]
Akira exhaled sharply and kept going. If I stop now, Reno will think I'm coasting.
Sure enough, a voice called from the side, sharp as a thrown knife.
"You're not normal. No human heals this fast."
Reno Ichikawa leaned against the railing, arms folded, his pale hair catching the light. His headphones hung loose around his neck, though his eyes stayed fixed on Akira. Suspicion hadn't vanished—it clung to him like a second skin. But there was something else beneath it now, something heavier: frustration.
Akira smirked without breaking rhythm. "Maybe you're just jealous I look better doing push-ups than you ever will."
Kafka snorted from the bench, almost dropping the towel he was carrying. "He's got you there, Reno."
Reno scowled, but the retort died on his tongue. Watching Akira push past his own limits, sweat soaking the bandages he still wore, sparked something inside him. It wasn't trust yet, but it wasn't hatred either.
Kikoru Shinomiya approached from the far corner, her butler Seibuya trailing behind with a neat tray of recovery drinks. Her amber eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. "Unbelievable. You're barely discharged and already acting like you're on a battlefield."
Akira rose smoothly, rolling his shoulders with a grin. "Strength doesn't wait for doctor's orders."
[Ravan: Subject Reno Ichikawa → hostility down 12%. Rivalry metrics increasing. Potential motivational bond forming.]
Akira wiped the sweat from his forehead and tossed the towel at Kafka, who yelped when it smacked him in the face. Kikoru shook her head, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward for just a moment before she masked it again.
Inside the base's command center, Mina Ashiro and Soushiro Hoshina watched the feed. Surveillance cameras tracked every move in the training yard, relaying them to the officers stationed inside. Mina's arms were crossed, her expression unreadable.
"He's reckless," she said quietly. "Even knowing he's under watch, he pushes like someone preparing for war."
Soushiro's grin was faint, but his eyes were sharp. "And that's exactly what makes him dangerous, Captain. The kid's either the best ally we could ask for… or the worst kind of traitor."
Kozunugi, perched nearby with her tablet, muttered, "Either way, he's drawing attention. I've had four different squads send me requests to transfer him to their units. Half the base already calls him 'the miracle boy.'"
Mina's gaze lingered on the screen as Akira clapped Reno on the shoulder, ignoring the younger man's startled glare. "Miracle or curse," she murmured, "we'll find out soon enough."
That evening, Mina convened her squad leaders in a briefing chamber deep within Tachikawa Base. Hoshina lounged at the table's edge, blades strapped at his side, while Kozunugi swiped through live tactical feeds. The air was tense—less about Akira's mystery and more about the growing shadow creeping over Yokohama.
"The parasitic kaiju mutations aren't like anything we've cataloged," Mina began, her voice firm. "They're weaker than standard kaiju in brute force, but far more insidious. Camouflage as humans. Strategic hunting patterns. And if Akira's hints are accurate, this is only the start."
One officer raised his hand, frowning. "Captain, forgive me, but relying on a civilian's unverified claims—"
"Not unverified," Kozunugi cut in, tapping her screen. Grainy footage filled the wall display: a humanoid figure lunging from an alleyway, flesh peeling away into twisted carapace before it tackled a passerby. "This was recorded in Naka Ward two nights ago. Witnesses thought it was just another kaiju skirmish until they noticed it was one of their own neighbors."
The room shifted uneasily. Mina didn't flinch. "Whether parasite or kaiju, the result is the same. We eliminate them. And we remain vigilant—for both enemies we see, and enemies we don't."
Her gaze swept across the table. "And that includes Akira Kurogiri. Until we know where he stands, he remains under observation. No exceptions."
Meanwhile, back at the hospital ward, the trio had collapsed into more mundane rhythms. Kafka sprawled on the bed's edge, animatedly retelling the time Uncle De had nearly fainted when a kaiju gut spilled over his boots. Reno pretended not to listen, arms crossed, but the twitch at his lips betrayed his amusement. Kikoru sat primly in a chair, polishing her blade.
Akira, watching them from the window, felt a flicker of something he hadn't expected: comfort.
[Ravan: Emotional fluctuation detected. Possible bond integration. Recommend caution—attachments may compromise decision-making efficiency.]
"Maybe efficiency isn't everything," Akira murmured under his breath.
"What?" Kafka asked, tilting his head.
Akira smirked. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."
Before Kafka could press further, the sirens blared. Red light bathed the walls, and a shrill voice cut through the intercom:
"Emergency alert! Severe seismic activity detected in Yokohama's Minami, Naka, and Isogo wards. Target is advancing from Yahotobashi toward Yamashita Town. Length: sixty meters. Threat level: Beast-Class 3.5!"
The room stiffened. Mina's eyes narrowed, calm and lethal. "A kaiju daring to show up now? All units, mobilize immediately. We end this fast."
Kafka jolted upright. "Wait—mobilize? Us? We're not even Defense Force yet!"
Reno folded his arms, scowling but unable to hide the edge of excitement in his voice. "Or maybe this is our selection. Prove yourself in battle, or get tossed out."
Kikoru's fists clenched, her pride igniting. "If Captain Ashiro is watching, then I'll prove I belong here."
Mina's gaze swept over them, flat and merciless. "This is a provisional assignment. Consider it your selection exam. Survive, and you'll have earned your place. Fail…" Her tone cut like steel. "Then you were never meant to stand here in the first place."
[Ravan: Selection trial initiated ahead of schedule. Survival probability: 41%. User advised to exceed baseline performance.]
Akira exhaled slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Well. Nothing like a sixty-meter welcome party."
Outside, the base shook as deployment orders cascaded through the comms. The trio exchanged glances—fear, pride, and determination colliding in the space between them.
The real test had begun.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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